


Goodnight Moon

by I May Age Regress (shnuffeluv)



Series: Gibbs' Family [26]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Bed-Wetting, Gen, Goodnight Moon, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Parental Jethro Gibbs, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/I%20May%20Age%20Regress
Summary: No, this is not straight-up plagiarism, before you ask.Timmy has a nightmare, and wakes up to a racing heart and a wet bed. Whatever is he to do?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [entangledbanks (summerhurleys)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhurleys/gifts).



> This idea was given to me ages ago by peachpetricca on Tumblr, before my blog was wiped out, and I just found it today in my drafts. Sorry I haven't been updating, senior year is stressful. But I'm _this_ close to college, so hopefully I can write more soon!

_Timmy didn't know what time it was. He just knew that he was sitting in his room, doing his homework like Dad had asked him to do, and had been doing so for probably about an hour by now. His honors courses in school were vigorous, but more interesting than what the on-level kids were doing, so he didn't complain._

_Without warning, his dad burst into the room, snarling. "What are you doing in here still?!" he asked._

_Timmy stopped his work, putting down his pencil and sitting ramrod straight. "I'm finishing my homework, sir."_

_"How long does finishing that work take?! You should have been done half an hour ago, and be outside to practice doing something useful now!" his dad growled._

_Timmy didn't respond. He knew he would be in trouble if he did, even if it was just to explain that the honors program had more homework than the on-level kids got._

_"Get up," his father spat._

_Timmy didn't move. He willed his arms and legs to push him out of his chair, but they wouldn't listen._

_"Get up!" his father roared, grabbing him roughly by the wrist and dragging him off the chair and to the center of his bedroom._

_Timmy still couldn't move, even as his father went to the closet and pulled out the belt he kept there. But rather than letting the leather end swing, the buckle gleamed in the light as it dangled mercilessly in front of Timmy's eyes. No. Timmy swallowed. "D-D-Dad..."_

_His dad glared at him and Timmy went silent again. "This is for your own good, son," his dad said._

_Timmy winced as his father raised his arm over his head, swung the belt, buckle end first, over the back of his arm, and held it there for a few seconds, before swinging his arm down, the belt whistling through the air, over Timmy's head, reaching for his back..._

Timmy woke up with a gasp. He looked around wildly, trying to recognize where he was. The walls were a pale bluish-green in the moonlight which was streaming in from a window behind him. There were two twin-sized beds pushed up against the wall to his right, and two people were in them, sleeping soundly. He was on the floor. No, wait. Not on the floor. On an air mattress. That's right, he was at Gibbs', wasn't he? He put his hands on the blanket on top of him and pushed himself to a sitting position, when he felt something warm and wet come in contact with his legs. Oh.

Oh no.

The boy pulled off the blanket he was sleeping under and found both the sheets and the blanket had dark wet patches right around where his legs met his hips. His sweatpants had a matching stain. He sucked in a quiet breath and closed his eyes, willing the image to go away. When he opened them again, the same sight met him. He bit his lip and tried his hardest to not make a sound. This hadn't been the first time his nighttime protection had leaked, but it was the first time it had happened at Gibbs'. Wait. He was at _Gibbs'_. The man would have to know that he wet the bed.

Timmy shuddered. He had called Gibbs _Papa_  before, but he had a hard time differentiating the 2 aspects of the man in his head. And even if he just rolled over and went back to sleep, Gibbs would know in the morning. Timmy couldn't just sneak out downstairs with all the sheets and wash them at who-knows-when o'clock. Besides, that was something grown-ups did, and he didn't feel very grown up right now. Maybe he should go to Gibbs and tell him, see if before he was punished he could be told what to do.

That in mind, he got off of the air mattress and shuffled out of the room, into the hallway. He was glad that the hallway light was still on, he didn't know this house by heart and would have a hard time walking to Gibbs' room otherwise. He got to the doorway before his feet froze and refused to move any farther. Gibbs shifted in his bed and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Timmy swallowed. Was he going to be in trouble for waking Gibbs up? "Timmy? What's the matter?"

Timmy opened his mouth, but no words came out. There was a massive lump in his throat and his eyes burned. He tried to say something, anything, so he wouldn't be in trouble. "I-I-I h-had a n-nightmare..."

Gibbs tutted and moved to the edge of his bed, crooking a finger. "Aw, c'mere, kiddo."

Timmy looked down at the floor and turned beet red. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't go over to Gibbs without admitting what he'd done. And he couldn't seem to find the words to say what had happened.

Gibbs frowned at the lack of response and stood up, walking over. "Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?"

Timmy shied away from Gibbs' hand as the man got closer. He didn't see how Gibbs would be able to get away with punishing him, but he didn't know a lot of things about how this was supposed to work. Gibbs stopped, and looked Timmy over, his eyes stopping just below Timmy's hips. "Oh," he said. "I see what happened."

And that was all it took for the floodgates to break and Timmy to start crying. He knew better than to make a sound, but his breath kept hitching and tears fell freely down his face. He wrapped his arms around his stomach quickly, his insides feeling like they were on fire while trying to keep up with his sobs. He felt hot all over from embarrassment at the fact that he wasn't just crying, but _sobbing_  in front of his boss in the middle of the night. But he just couldn't stop.

Then there were arms around him, rubbing his back slowly in circles, and someone was whispering in his ear to take deep breaths. And in that moment it finally clicked for Timmy what the difference between Gibbs and Papa was.

He followed the instructions telling him to breathe, and when he had stopped crying Papa gently pushed him out to inspect him at arm's length. "There's my boy. A little rough around the edges, but he'll be okay."

Timmy sniffled and rubbed at his cheeks with the back of one hand. His stomach was twisted uncomfortably and he was still panting a little from crying so hard, but if Papa said he was okay, then he knew he would be fine.

Papa put a hand on Timmy's shoulder lightly and gave it a squeeze. "Go clean up in the bathroom, kiddo, I'll take care of the sheets."

"Okay," Timmy whispered, walking out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door.

It took Timmy a second to realize what he needed to do, but he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out one of the Pull-Ups Papa kept there and a washcloth that was sitting next to it. As he got himself clean, he wondered why he wasn't in trouble yet. Usually what Daddy did was make sure he knew he was in trouble first, since he was already a mess, and then have him clean everything up himself. To have someone else take care of it was...strange. But nice. Didn't mean he didn't feel bad about it happening in the first place, though.

Timmy didn't have a spare set of sweatpants he could change into, but he figured it wouldn't be the end of the world if he simply went without. So he grabbed the sweatpants where they weren't wet and left the bathroom with them in hand, where he nearly ran into Papa. "Oh, I'll take those and wash them in the morning," he said, taking the pants from Timmy's hands.

"I-I-I can--" Timmy stuttered.

Papa didn't listen, taking the pants downstairs. Timmy decided that he may as well try and go back to sleep now, since he had work tomorrow morning. He walked into the bedroom, expecting to do _something_  with the air mattress, but found new sheets and a blanket already set up on it. He blinked. This wasn't like the last time his Pull-Up had leaked at someone else's house at _all_.

There was a hand on his shoulder again, guiding him out of the room. Timmy looked next to him to find Papa was back. He felt guilt eating at him at waking the man up so early and forcing him to change his sheets. He could have done that on his own, really. He didn't need to wake up Papa. "Where are we going?" he whispered once they were out of the room and he saw they were approaching the steps.

"I don't think you're ready to go back to sleep yet, so I'm going to let you calm down some before you go back to bed," Papa replied simply.

Timmy frowned and looked at the floor. Maybe he was being punished after all? But Papa hadn't done anything to lead up to it, and if he was in trouble, then why did Papa calm him down before?

Papa gently pushed him onto the couch in the living room and turned the TV on, keeping the volume low but loud enough that Timmy could hear it. Timmy watched Papa move toward Tony's toy chest and pull out a board book with _Goodnight Moon_  on the front of it in yellow. Papa sat down next to him on the couch and opened the book to the first page. Timmy blushed lightly and reached for the book, only for Papa to move it just out of his reach. He frowned and reached again, only for the book to be moved away again. "I can't read the book to you if you keep reaching for it, Timmy," Papa said patiently.

"I can read it myself!" Timmy said, crossing his arms. He knew he looked petulant, but he prided himself on being self-sufficient.

Papa closed the book and put it in his lap, again touching Timmy's shoulder to get his attention. "Timmy, you’re little. And when you’re little, you’re not in charge of things. That’s Papa’s job. So don’t worry about anything that might get you worked up, okay? You’re job is to let go so that you can relax like you need to. I’ll be here to make sure everything is all right."

Timmy worried his lip in his teeth. It sounded too good to be true, which usually meant it was. He needed more proof. "Always?"

Papa nodded. "Always. I don't care that you woke me up at 2 in the morning, because I'd rather be tired tomorrow than have you stay up half the night being miserable. You understand?"

Timmy nodded and uncrossed his arms, pulling his legs up onto the couch. Papa smiled and opened the book again, starting to read. When he did, it felt like time stopped around them. Timmy lost himself in the words and found his attention torn between Papa's reading and falling back asleep. He didn't even notice when Papa stopped and closed the book. "Hey, kiddo, I think we should go back upstairs now. You look worn out."

"Mmm," Timmy hummed, rubbing at his eyes. He yawned and stood up with some help from Papa.

It took some work, but Timmy stumbled upstairs and was soon on the air mattress under the fresh sheets and blanket. He couldn't even recall when he fell asleep.

* * *

McGee woke up the next morning easily, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. He sat up and looked around, confused. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night, but despite that, he felt...relaxed. Well-rested, even. Which was usually unheard of. There was snickering from the queen bed against the opposite wall and he looked up to find Tony stifling giggles. "McGee...where did your pants go?"

Looking down, McGee found that his pants were indeed missing. "Um...I can't remember. It has something to do with last night. Or was it this morning?"

"You drink the sour milk in the fridge, McGee?" Kate asked, walking into the room in her day clothes. "Or is there another reason you can't seem to remember?"

"It was the middle of the night," McGee said, standing up himself. "Isn't that reason enough?"

Kate smiled. "Get dressed quickly, both of you. Gibbs has already inhaled 2 cups of coffee. Apparently you weren't the only one up late last night."

McGee swallowed. He did not want to be on the boss' bad side this morning. Kate closed the door and he and Tony got dressed quickly, but Timmy couldn't help a small smile. He remembered enough of last night to know that Gibbs, however he hid it during the work day, cared for him a great deal. It was reassuring. Maybe he'd sleep soundly more often now.


End file.
